The Troll
by Stop Staring At Me
Summary: An exclusive insight to the thoughts and feelings of the troll from the Billy Goats Gruff. We all wanted to know why the troll was so mean in the story. It wasn't because he was hungry. After all, we all know trolls are herbivores. o.O


Author's Note:

This is my attempt at Billy Goats Gruff fan fiction, something which I doubt anyone has tried before. :P

Feedback is welcome and appreciated.

Oh, and I don't own the Billy Goats Gruff. Enjoy reading!

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**The Troll**

I wish I could live the peaceful life of a breeze. Just imagining the things I could see, and the people I could meet makes me contemplate the aerodynamics involved and the transmogrification which would need to take place. As I am, all whom I meet are those cruel, deceitful goats. I have only ever wanted to live a peaceful life, under my dark, rope-bound bridge studying the prospects and phenomena of applied interdisciplinary physics and the cryogenics of geothermal organisms. Yet those horrid goats, with their backward curving horns and their short hair and stubby tails; they incessantly distract me from my thoughts with their gallivanting across the fields, and they constantly torment me, by pounding their roughshod hooves across my bridge! A dim-witted brute they call me, a monstrous abomination who should never have walked the earth. I do not ask for much in life; I simply wish to live as a hermit, to be in exile from the world whilst I continue my life-consuming research.

There they are again, galloping across the fields chasing a poor, defenceless butterfly as if they were knights' steed in a fairytale, their stubby tails whisking about in the wind, their square, yellowish teeth snapping every which way, hoping to grab a taste of the poor critter before they spit it out and find another victim of their wretched torment. Someone ought to teach those Billy Goat Gruff brothers a lesson. I should teach them the etiquette of a compassionate society, and thus stop them from being so fearsomely cruel to me. I sigh with a deep rumble, a hum to the ears, which would distress even the most uncompassionate of beings. Not only is my treatment unfair, it is wrong. Whenever I meet other trolls at the Golden Globe Awards, they all compliment me on my handsome looks. They say that I have the cutest button nose. It makes my wrath towards all goats even greater when they make distasteful jokes about my eating habits. For goodness sake, everyone knows that trolls are herbivores! Often during the moonlit night, though it shames me to admit it, I will abandon my homey bridge and traverse into the next field where the exquisitely sweet strawberries grow among the dandelions.

I am an ancient troll, but whilst I have lost mobility in my numerous years, I have gained wisdom, and I know that goats are a species mentally incapable of grasping even the simplest concepts such as binary physics and quantum measurements. Nevertheless, all forms of life are blessed with the ability to empathise; those cloven-hoofed, mammalian critters just refuse to reinforce that ability. I have often considered the notion of using those coarse-haired goats in one of my experiments. By utilising them in such a manner, they would not only be doing the world some good, they would also discontinue their annoying behaviour towards me. Alas, I could never get them to stamp the permission forms…

Perhaps I should move. If I were to leave this place and shift my hermitic lifestyle to another bridge, I could finally live the peaceful existence which I am constantly contemplating. Yes, that's it! I shall move; I will pack up my automatic molecular synthesiser and… No, I could never leave my beautiful bridge. I would miss its termite ridden posts, and the dank, yet enticingly sweet smell that emanates from the crevasses of the yew tree planks. I have grown firmly attached to my bridge over the years; it is like a sixth limb to me. It is an unswerving lover, where the flame never dies, but instead grows brighter and fiercer with the years that go by.

So I am left with only one option, a last resort which I had hoped against all likelihood I would not have to take. (Gulp), I knew within my heart of hearts that it would come to this, the possibility has been looming over me like a shadow, and now I must come to terms with it. I must end it, that's right I am going to do it. I will contact my lawyer first thing in the morning and take those Goats to court!


End file.
